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artie5o5 · 3 years

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I am finally writing(!!) - A Short Story Collection “Overture”

I've writing stories for almost all my life, since I learned how to string words together and form a sentence. My first ever memory is crying on the floor of my childhood home, complaining to my mother that I can’t write in the notebook she gave me because it’s not lined (I wasn’t old enough to write in blank paper yet)

And yet, if you asked me to produce a body of my work, all I’d have to show for the years of my writing is one(1) novella I wrote when I was 14 and a thousand unfinished novels that I abandoned after 10 pages.

I had resolved in 2020 that I would commit to finishing things as Neil Gaiman had so wisely adviced. But the only thing I finished in 2020 was a 10k word short story called “Nathaniel O’Neal and the Death of Jenny” I started that story on March 9, 2020 and finished on December 6, 2020. Stephan would’ve had written three whole novels in that timeframe

In 2021, I did not finish anything. I did write parts of short story. In my defence, I had a pretty bad year. (So did everyone, get over yourself)

But... (!!!)... at the end of 2021, I saw this video from Rachel

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And this was literally godsend.

I had so many short story ideas just whirling in my mind, I had them scattered between my notion and my google keeps notes. But after watching Rachel's video I decided to finally, actually, dedicate myself to writing something I think I can actually finish.

Writing a novel is a monumental task, and I shall never again dunk on Stephanie Meyer cause she at least finished the Twilight books. I really don't think I have it in me to finish any work of fiction over 20k words.

But short stories I can do.

And I have decided to do it. Below is my notion page of short story ideas that I had accumulated over the last two years. The 2 shorts that I actually did finish, I've choses not to include in this post. These are 11 shorts that I currently think are workable. I have more ideas stored in google keeps - I will only touch that pile once I've finished all these. And and the end of the year, hopefully, we will have a short story collection

Why "Overture"?

Well, my go to mental breakdown song is "Achilles Come Down" by gangs of youth and there is a line there "Overture bold and beyond" and I just like the melody of that line. It's kinda stuck in my head

"Overture" also means "an introduction to something more substantial"

And I would like to imagine, rather arrogantly, that after I've finished this collection - I would emerge out of the other end a better writer and perhaps go on to write more substantial work. Amen.

I would like to just briefly talk about each story and what they're about. I would make individual writing updates in the future. Just to capture my thoughts and process, more like a journal.

1. I See You in every shard of glass

A 19 year old girl who stayed home after high school while all of her cool friends went to fancy east coast school goes on a long drive at midnight with her high school on-again-off-again, currently ex-boyfriend - and realises she might have overly romanticised her entire relationship with him

Originally inspired by Taylor Swift's iconic song "Style". The opening image to me was that of a dreamy James Dean-y boy stopping outside of her house at midnight and from then on I was just gonna write down the plot of the song in fiction. But as I went on writing it kinda got out of hand and became reaally fucked up

I would really love to tell you this has a flimsy, dreamy vibe because I really wanted this piece to have flimsy-dreamy vibes - but girl the vibes are off

CW: Date rape (??!!)

I really don't know if I can write it as respectfully as the subject material demands. I'm really afraid of giving off the wrong message or accidentally ending up victim blaming but there's a lot of nuance to the events that I'm just not a good enough writer to do justice

I've been struggling to write this story for a whole year now (2021 was baaaad). The prose doesn't have the dreamy quality I wanted it to have. The subject matter seems too heavy on my chest like a boulder from hell. But I've decided to just finish in before January 31st. Things could be changed to my liking in edits (hopefully 🤞)

2. Work Song (Working Title)

I don't have a title for it yet, but as you can clearly see - it was inspired by Hozier's work song.

I was just gonna follow the plot beats of the song but again, as I went on the story got progressively fucked up.

The vague foggy image of the story now in my head is this:

A very beautiful young man in his early to mid 20s is rescued by a woman who had very recently lost a child (the child's father never mentioned)

The first few paragraphs is just basically the protagonist telling his buddies (who he now works on a farm/field with) about the hazy fever dreams through which he saw her caring for him after. She never asks him about the drunken state she found him in or how he had gotten there, she never asks him about his past and all that Hozier Work song stuff

But then the plot deviates from the song - he starts to internally think about things that he doesn't say to the audience

There's the church, and she's church going though not strictly a believer so he goes to church with him. Big Shaelin-Hold-Me-Under-Till-I-See-The-Light Vibes

The church talks about the sins of adultery and homosexuality, talks about Soddom and Gomorrah and he clearly gets super agitated

So, Spoiler Alert: the past that his "baby" never asks him about is that he used to be a street hustler. (Trying to channel My Own Private Idaho but can we ever)

Kinda gothic????

The story basically ends on

If the Lord don't forgive me

I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

When I was kissing on my baby

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamp light I was free

Heaven and hell were words to me

3. Drown my woes in a lake of fire

Title borrowed from that one Elle King song

I don't know much plot wise - but I want to achieve that History of Wolves vibes

The protagonist is a tween girl, the youngest in her family of 7. Her parents. Her oldest sister, then a brother one year junior, then the twin girls and finally her

She is hella lonely because the twins always gang up on her and exclude her, her olderst sister and brother are close too. But she has no one and nothing but her siblings hand me downs.

I don't know what the catalyst is yet but she drowns her family's pack of dogs, all 5 of them, in a lake that's turned into ice. But she knows where the ice is thin.

4. A girl accidentally kills her parents and her addict older brother gets framed, also accidentally

It's probably gonna be an accidental gas leak. Like she forgets to turn the stove off or something

Her older brother becomes a suspect in the investigation and gets convicted on double homicide

She feels guilty for not speaking up, but she's also unhinged so there's that

5. A PhD student goes to meet a homeless person

I don't have a title for this. Can you tell?

This one came to me in a dream.

I'm not kidding.

There's was a 2nd person narration going on inside my head and I wrote down as much as I remembered upon waking up.

But the material I got was so scattered and meaningless that I had to keep digging at it - like I didn't even brush my teeth, just kept typing on my phone like a maniac

Logline: The story starts with a PhD student taking a cng towards an impoverish area - he struggles with the power hierarchy of his highly beaurocratic world, the mindless selfishness of his fellows and superiors and reaches out to find a human connection

It is the tamest of all my stories. So much so that it feels like it doesn't belong with the rest

6. A 20 something boy goes to a whorehouse and pays a prostitute to pretend to be his sister for one night

Shaelin's Zugzwang meets George Martin's Meathouse man

I only have vibes no plot

7. Let me drown slowly

Another song inspired story. (Thank Dionysius for Alec Benjamin)

I've written like the beginning of it in Google Keeps

Basically the inner monologue of a guy who knows his girlfriend is about to break up with him waiting for it to happen

I haven't started writing yet but I can't wait to see how this innocent song turns into something extremely fucked up, yet again

8. Grave of Bird

A girl has been burying the birds that her cat catches under a tree for years

The tree was a little sapling the same height as her when she was 6, now that she's 16 the tree has far outgrown her

The catch is.... it's not only the birds that are being buried there.

9. Dear Charlotte

I've actually written some parts of it

2nd person, accusatory

Basically Isabel is writing an apology letter to her older sister Charlotte but instead of an apology the letter is bloated with why everything was Charlotte's fault and Charlotte is a horrible human being

18th century Feudal Europe

A Gothic Manor, a pausible ghost of a dead brother

Scandals (!!!)

Painters and Scuptors and rumors of incest

Isabel is jealous and bitter but god is Charlotte unreadable

10. My Immortal

I'm gonna write this in October. (Halloween!!)

Gothic. Supernatural

A human being (pet?) is in love with their vampire but not in a twilight way

More like the vampire needs a human to run their errands through the day until they come alive at midnight

The errand boy/girl serves the vampire in exchange of their supernatural favors and a dim, dim hope that maybe someday the vampire would turn them into a vampire too (A bit like a witch's familiar??)

Again, just vibes, no plot

11.

12. Children in Snow (Working Title)

I was trying to write that half heartedly in 2019. But then last year in 2021 I tried to actually finish it but lol

Sci-fi

A heavily beaurocratic world sends off their unwanted children to be raised by 18-20 year olds (Basically other childrens) in government funded facilities

They have robotic doctors at their disposal, a mechanic robot to repair heaters and stuff like that, a vast physical and digital library, a curriculum to study and artificial robotc teachers, so that when they finally get out into the world world at age 21 they have enough marketable skills to earn a living- everything except human contant

Those who want to persue a University education can sit for a test at 18 and if they pass can then be admitted public unis

Once a month, their supplies are dropped of at a watchtower that is directly in the middle of all 10 such facilities in the area (each facility housing about 50 children)

The oldest in Garfield's facility who chose to stay instead of go to uni go out to gather their monthly supply as usual, but get stuck in a snow storm

Low magic

The characters are ✨ immaculate ✨

But alas no plot- so every time I attempt to write it, it keeps on stretching and stretching but there isn't enough material here for it to be a novel

I want to write this in December. So I'll have to find a new short story idea to write in November

That is All!

I would post writing updates as I write and hopefully, finish stories. If you made it this far, then Thank You Very Much for your time!! I'm really happy you're here..

#unhinged #fucked up #please send help #author #writers #writing #wip #writeblr #wip intro #current wip #short story #prelude

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sunstone-nerding · 3 years

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WIP Chronicle: Too Good-Hearted

I wrote this first draft on 11/23/19, which is I think the day I finished watching TDP S3.

[Image description: A photo of a section a notebook page. It’s handwritten prose with a lot of crossed out and revised wording. The text reads:

“11/23/19: Notes for fanfiction. A summary: Runaan & Ethari argue about Rayla, other things come up, but they try to work it out -- because that’s what dedicated spouses do.

(Stuff before this.) Ethari: “She’s too good-hearted...” He stopped, realizing what he had implied. But the words had already flown[, and struck their mark]. And, also, he knew he meant them.

Runaan was too stunned to speak for a moment. “You...think that...” he began softly. Then he rallied himself. “Do you think I wanted to be like this?” He clenched a hand over his heart. “My feet were set on this path for me, and so I walked it!”

“It nearly broke you!” his husband shot back[, bringing his hands down hard on the table]. “Don’t you remember?”

End image description.]

Since that was literally my first draft, I would (and have) changed some things. I guess I just wanted to show that I do write, a lot. Maybe by showing my drafts I can become less scared to post finished work. (That would require finishing a piece in the first place...)

#wip #my wip #fan fic #fandom contributions #tdp #the dragon prince #runaan #ethari #moonshadow husbands #fanfic #wip chronicle

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cosmiclatte28 · 3 years

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Okay asking again...How about 14, 19, 4,5,6?

Oohh 19 is super interesting!

Okay

19. In complicated narratives how do i keep track of outlines, characters, development etc

OKAY I WANNA TELL U THIS.. like idk maybe try this.. for my series.. i lowkey have a notepad filled with plots and all the story lines and the characters! I have a page dedicated for the characters development then one page of setting time and outline.. another page of dresses and omg yes i drew it so bad but just for the sake of explaining it.. and then i have the crest (coz its royalty) and i have one page for each chapter!! I write down the quotes I want to use.. specific words or sentences for characters.. i couldn't show u the pic coz it was super messy it's reallly me jotting down all the ideas when they're in my head. I left the notebook in my home country sorry can't show u that.. but basically write everything down.. later u can see which part u wanna cross out. I did this and yet i still end up with writer' block lmao but i am quite proud of this...it works for me so maybe try it! (I still do this on my earlier writing projects.. but oneshot.. i don't do this hahaha)

4. Fav character I've written.. tbh it's my OC Scarlet and (y/n)!! No jokes (y/n) is the only one with diff personalities lol! Okay i love to write Baekhyun (i think i can suit him in any role) , Yuta, and Renjun (because i cannot write for kyungsoo.. renjun is similar) sometimes Jaehyun is fun to write too.

5. I answered this.. i am surprised i wrote a fanfic starring Jisung and Kun! Like wow i could never do that again (or could i?)

6. Something i'd go back to change but too late coz its too complicated in my story now.. hmm definitely my series in wattpad.. ahh too much to change i couldn't even decide if i should delete everything or several scenes... Silver spoon.. i should've deleted Luhan.. no forced marriage.. just banned love for loving sehun (their knight) and i should've deleted the kidnapping part in Daughter of silence 😅

If you're interested do check them out lmaoo

14. Playlist for current wips? Nah.. i don't have special playlist just hit shuffle or no song at all...

Thanks for asking and I hope you can find some idea on how to write even when i am an amateur too !!

🙆‍♀️💕 keep on writing!!

#cosmic answer #cosmic answers #get to know your author #cosmic asks #cosmiclatte post #notyournoona

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aloera · 3 years

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The ask prompt is too long to fit into an ask TT_TT but here's the doc for it docs(.)google(.)com/document/d/1yDI7iFRhOJ8ENv_IwZAo3rDSUqj80EiJROS10RzRbj4/edit

the lengths u are going for this,,, much appreciated you're very sweet!!!

prompts + answers under the cut!!

INTRODUCTION

Name: aloera

AO3 account: aloera

Fandoms you write for: bnha

How many stories have you written so far: 19

FANFICTION PROFILE

What's your favorite fandom to write for? hmm,,, used to do pjo and eah (ever after high) and eah was fun as fuck i will say!!! i think bnha is my fav mostly bc i made the most friends in this fandom :D

What's your favorite character/person to write for? bkg and kirishima!! cannot choose do not make me <3

Fic you'd want to improve? probably what we deserve? i rushed the beginning and the confession is a bit stilted imo

Hardest fic you've written? between lion and men -_- bc there is so much canon compliant stuff i've gotta write out before i get to the divergence and its HARD

Easiest fic you've written? come home to me!!! it happened so easily,,, no second guessing no writers block just vibes <33 was lovely i miss it

What would you say is the most "famous" fic you've ever written? also probably come home to me? its got the most interaction

first line of the first fic you've ever written and published. [not including my 2014 ffnet fics] "The bell rings, class starts, and Katsuki and Midoriya are inexplicably absent." from come home to me

Have you ever done a collab with another writer? yes!!!!! on two separate occasions and its so fucking fun i highly recommend trying it out its the best

Do you beta? if asked but honestly im a shit beta lmao

Do you like joining fic fests/exchanges? depends on what i have going on irl but in general yeah!!

FANFICTION PREFERENCES

Fluff or angst? definitely fluff

"OCs" or "Reader" inserts? reader inserts!! have been going ham on them recently

Blurbs or drabbles? blurbs!!

One thing you love about fanfiction i just. i really love slice of life romance?? and most media doesn't give you that bc its dedicated to plot and action and that's valid!! but fanfiction fills in the gap which is really nice

One thing you don't like about fanfiction most of the stuff i don't like is less about actual fanfiction and more about how people behave about it

What is/are your favorite fandom author/authors? IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! TURN IT UP!!!

bnha: hiuythn, rae_tnub, Moniix, Ata_Lanta, wrunic, chezka, PurplePersnickety, surveycorpsejean, mahadevi, arxaris, deviance, Oceanbreeze7, MikeWritesThings, bonnia, wonhaebunny, dinosuns

voltron: hiuythn, Oceanbreeze7, DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee, arahir, dinosuns,

and honorable mention to loveclouds im not even in the haikyuu fandom i just love their fics So Much

these are just the ones off the top of my head i have so many favourites idc if i'm only supposed 2 have one!! die mad about it!!!

What is your favorite trope? secret relationship + relationship reveal til the day i die babie <3 <3

Least favorite trope? hm,,, probably just like. angst lmao i cannot stand 90% of it

A fanfiction cliché that you can't help but love? coffeeshop aus,,,, so good

Do you have a type when it comes to pairings? the otp where its like. piece of shit + himbo = love. ex. krbk, catradora, jade/beck

Favorite setting/au? hm,,, truly i cannot pick one KGKSJNHKj but i really like college aus!! and modern aus!! and roommate aus!!

Explain the meaning of your favorite line of dialogue you've written as if someone hasn't read it in context. “He doesn’t know,” Katsuki says, softly. “My timer stopped and nothing happened. He’s not mine.”

the line is from what we deserve!! it's a soulmate au where your timer counts down to the moment that you meet your soulmate!! bakugou's timer ends at USJ when he and kirishima attack kurogiri at the same time (impulsive kings <33) but kirishima's timer doesn't end until kamino because that's when he accepts himself as bakugous soulmate!! unfortunately, when bakugous timer has reached 0, he turned to see that kirishima's was still ticking and therefore believes that kirishima isn't his soulmate.

this line just,, idk. it's really sad. bakugou is such an action-driven character? if something doesn't go his way he Makes it go his way. he's got this insanely volatile quirk and he's got impeccable control of it!! but his love for kirishima isn't something that he can change and he's not going to ruin kirishima's chance of finding his own soulmate because he loves him and wants him to be happy. i really wanted to focus on how resigned he is? and how unusual that is for a character like him.

Favorite trope/genre to write? again, secret relationship with relationship reveals <33 fluff in general is my wheelhouse!!!

A trope/genre you haven't written but think would be a fun challenge? idk if this counts?? have been working on some dead dove concepts!! its super different from what i normally write so its a cool challenge

The one trope/concept you'll never touch and why probably cheating/infidelity?? it just looks,,, super difficult to write well and i don't have enough of an interest in it to try it out

Which do you prefer to write: longer or shorter fics? shorter!! low attention span gang <3

Ideal length to read? 5-10k?

Ideal length to write? 4-8k!!

How long was the longest fic you've ever written? control fraek is around 28k i think?

Have you ever written an AU? yeah!! i've done restaurant au's, soulmate au's, pro hero aus, and fantasy aus (general, not the bnha fantasy ending)

What's your favorite AU trope? hm,, probably when two people in authority are in a secret relationship? ceo's/uni professors/etc etc

Have you ever written smut? yeah!! was. difficult tho

What's your comfort genre? (the one you fall on most in writing/reading) fluff,,, hurt/comfort,,, fix-it fics with happy endings <3

If you were to start writing in other fandoms, which would they be? maybe jjk?? the characters are really cool!!!! fr i might go back to my ever after high roots i love the characters and setting so Much its so fun!!! idec if no ones into it anymore!!!!!

Is there a trope you think you could be easily recognized by in your writing? i've had people say they saw the mention of buff hagakure and recognized it was me so. probably that skdjhnksjd

WRITING STYLE

How would you describe your style? i tend to use shorter sentences and pretty simple words i think? and i gravitate towards lighthearted concepts that allow for ensemble casts and humour!!

Describe your style in three words romcom but fanfic

Favorite words to use when writing? the word reverent!! fuckin love including it!!

Dialogue tags or no dialogue tags? (she said, he said, they said, etc) dialogue tags!!!

Favorite dialogue tag (other than said, if you use them) again idk if this counts but "they said softly" is unmatched

Long sentences vs short vs a mix short <33

What colors would you use to describe your writing? hm,,, depends on the fic i would say?? control fraek is dark green to me?? kinda like a forest at night yk?? scary but there's still life there. sugar cookies is yellow like early morning sunlight, when it rains is yellowy-orange like a caution sign. not gonna list all of them cause theres a lot its just. do u get it? the colours change based on the vibe of the fic.

What song or music genre would you use to describe your writing? think. i am constantly trying to emulate that moment at the end of wasteland baby when hozier goes "im in love/im in love with you."

What kind of metaphors do you rely on? religious metaphors my beloved <33 they're just so pretty!!! i also love comparing stuff to water for some reason?? like that ocean vuong quote thats like "what are you now?/water." it goes hard!!!

What's something you'd say is experimental in your writing at this time? definitely action!! i have,,, no idea how to write it so anything i do is really just me playing around and seeing what works and what doesn't

Do you prefer to write by hand or to type? i've tried both!! personally i prefer typing because it goes way faster but i will say that writing by hand lets me get words down when i'm going through writer's block

What is your preferred place to write (notebook, laptop, cellphone, etc.)? laptop!!

What app/apps do you use to write (word, notepad, etc.)? google docs skjdnkjh its fine on desktop but mobile is,,,,, disgusting

Do you keep a notebook or file/notes page in your phone/device for notes on your writing? ngl i just have everything organized in my drive?? one folder per fandom and then sub folders for ideas+hcs, unfinished wips, and finished fics. multichaps get sub sub folders so i can organize outlines and drafts

Do you listen to music to help you write? yeah!! playlists organized by fic vibe :D

Where do you usually go to write (bedroom, living room, etc.)? mostly in my bedroom??? but moving around to different stops helps too i think!!

How long does it usually take for you to write? again this depends on what i have going on irl, how attached i am to the idea, my mindset at the time, etc!! i am,, the least consistent person skjnhdkjh.

What's your favorite font to use when writing? times new roman my beloved

Other writing habits? sometimes i'll write in the dark?? bad for my eyes but for some reason it gets the words flowing

CONCEPTUALIZATION

How do you conceptualize your ideas? (See specific moments like they're a movie, writing specific lines in your head, don't know until you put the words on paper, etc.) i tend to get inspiration from movies, books, poems, or other fics!!! sometimes one line just makes me go oh,, i want to write something like that,,, and then it helps me create an idea that makes me feel the same way?? i did this with control fraek!!!! i wanted a scenario where bakugou was cold and calculating and i was like hm. to do that he’d have to be focusing on something important. and from there i was able to flesh out the rest of the idea.

Which comes first: the pairing or the plot? with krbk its always always the pairing,, i'll be sitting there like wow <33 i love them <33 what if one of them had amnesia <33 (which, yes, wip!!) otherwise it's usually the plot!! and i slot in characters that i feel make sense

Have you ever used a prompt? yeah!! used a prompt for wlw week 2020 and it was fun as hell

Do you write around the story around a specific scene you want to get to or do you start from a plot idea definitely the first!!!! i almost always write like,,, a super messy scene thats 90% dialogue, keep it in my head, and then write the entire fic around that one moment

Do you find that you include a projection of some part of yourself in the way you write a character? a lot of the time when i write love confessions or love in general i'll have one of the characters think or say that the other person makes their head quiet? and it's because that's what i feel whenever i'm in love?? a quiet mind. i project on characters yeah but i think most of the projection actually goes to the way that i write love

Do you research some of the things you write deeply, partially and kind of wing the rest, or play entirely by ear (in this case, go with whatever base knowledge of the subject you have)? most of the time if i do research it'll be about the setting (ex. the izakaya in to have and to hold) or if i'm having the characters interact with an object that they like. need to know how to use (me, in control fraek: google. hey google. does someone die if they get shot in the foot??? no???? awesome thank u <3)

Have you ever had an idea for a story and forgot about it? lmaoo yeah all the time i'll find like 500-2k words of concepts in my gdocs like i do. not remember this at all

Is there a trope you think you could be easily recognized by in your writing? probably krbk secret relationship lmao

Are there concepts you've tried that turned out better than expected? yeah!! i fully thought the action in control fraek would be awful but it turned out not bad??? which im happy with

Are there concepts you've tried that turned out worse than you expected? again, what we deserve, i personally think it would have worked out better if i'd paced it slower and drawn out the pining but i. do not feel like going back to fix it so its staying the way that it is. pining is so fucking hard to do AHHHH i get so tired with it!!! im like just date already!!!!

PROCESS

How do you come up with titles? in rare occasions (literally. all my multichaps for some reason) the title comes after writing like .5 words of the first chapter im like YES this is it!!!!! sometimes i write the whole thing and pick out one line that fits (what i did with come home to me) a lot of the time i just. steal from songs or poems that i like

What's your favorite emotion to cause on your readers? i like making people happy!!!! love when people comment saying they're cheered up

What's your favorite emotion to write? lovelovelovelovelovelove

Have you ever cried or felt any emotion while reading something you've written? never cried?? but sometimes i'll rereading my hurt/comfort fics 4. yk. comfort

Do you write in order or whatever comes to you? in order!! unless i have a scene that i Need to write and i'll quickly jot it down so that i don't forget

Usual way you procrastinate while writing? ...doing asks like this, making playlists, discord, watching netflix. what don't i do smh

Do you outline or free write? i am. so shit at outlines. i mostly free write and write lil notes for stuff that i wanna add later

Do you set word goals or scene goals (scenes you want to include)? yes!! like i said i'll write loose notes for scenes that i want to add later!! it gives me something to write towards :D

What do you consider when writing your scenes? what goes into making the atmosphere and mood you want? to set a scene i do two things? the first is like,, the five senses bc that always sets the scene really well and makes it feel Real. i'll visualize stuff in my head like its a movie and write out what i would want to tell the set designer?? if the lights are low, if the space is busy, if it's supposed to exude comfort or not.

for putting forward the character's mood one thing i've found that makes a difference is sentence length!! long sentences are good for making a character seem flustered and nervous or not really in control of their emotions? good for love confessions. short sentences are good for when the character is focused on something or short on time. good for fights!!

What's something you never considered to include in your writing that you can't leave out now? def buff hagakure,,,, once i thought of it i was like. if i don't include this at least once in every single fic how could i look at myself in the mirror!!!!!! how could i face anyone!!!!

How do you start a story? establishing a fact about the character or describing the setting! option a is one single thread of gold, option b is between lion and men

How do you end a story? either by tying it back to the beginning or doing like a funny kind of closing??? option a is sugar cookies, option b is a godless society

How do you get out of writer's block? change something!! move something!! i go from typing to handwriting, moving from my bedroom to my living room, switching wips to work on something else!! i do sprints as well?? give myself like fifteen minutes to write something and sometimes 200 words opens up the way for another 2k. sometimes i'll just delete like 500 words and start fresh

Do you edit? or do you toss your writing out there? i edit!!! i'll go over it myself then send it to one or two betas (bee my beloved <33)

How do you edit? do you use spellcheck, grammar checkers, etc? bee is my grammar checker bc he is So Good with grammar. i use grammarly as well for spellcheck stuff mostly?? sometimes my edit process is just like "am i tired of looking at this!! yes <3" and then i post it

PROGRESS

Do you usually like what you write? yeah!!! i post stuff that makes me happy and that i'm fine with rereading!!! i write stuff for self-indulgence reasons first and foremost and i think my writing reflects that sjhnksj

Have you ever written something you didn't like but posted anyways? nope!! even what we deserve i LIKED even if i see a lot of room 4 improvement!! if i don't like smth it's not getting posted

Do you find yourself rereading your writing often? yeah!! the reason i wrote so much krbk secret relationship is because i loved it but i'd read all that there was so i just,, wrote more,, ngl its kinda nice being in a place where i actually like my writing bc i can write stuff that i want to see and really enjoy it!!

Can you tell us anything about your current WIP? sure!! i'm currently working on when it rains which is a fic where bakugou gets hit by a crying quirk!! i'm gonna be using it to explore So Much of all might's character and his relationships with bakugou and aizawa (and i think some people from his past!!)

Can you give us a sneak peek on your current WIP? “You did something. What the hell did you do?” Kirishima sounds pissed off. It would amuse Katsuki if he wasn’t fighting just to stay standing.

“Nothing he didn’t ask for,” Shinsou replies.

“K’ri… shima,” Katsuki croaks out. “‘S fine. Not him.”

His chest collapses back into the familiar dry heaving after that but Kirishima shuts up. He doesn’t apologize to Shinsou.

Kirishima’s a good friend, stubborn and loyal. He stands by Katsuki’s side like an attack dog, blocking him from the view of anyone ogling at his tears.

The last line you've written Ochako knows more than she'd realized. She knows enough to keep her guard up.

It’s not enough.

Open a wip. what’s the first line?

Katsuki wakes up feeling like absolute fucking shit.

INSIGHT

What's your favorite thing about writing? touched on this before but it's mainly just being able to write the things that i want to see and actually enjoy them!!! actually reread them!!!! i thought "wouldn't it be cool if bkg and kirishima owned a restaurant together" and then i wrote it and i like it enough to reread it!!!! being able to create content for myself makes me. so happy

How do you keep yourself inspired? this is gonna sound narcissistic maybe but honestly i'm just really excited about my ideas and where i'm gonna take them and the idea of "i'm gonna get to That scene" keeps me going through the entire thing. also my friends!!!! i'll talk to them about fics and their reactions keep me hyped up enough to finish!!!!

What is your favorite thing to write? just,, slice of life romance,,, stuff thats silly and makes people laugh!!

What do you think your strengths are in writing? i'm good with dialogue!! i do lil voice acting sessions with myself to make sure everything sounds natural and like it's coming from that character skhjnskj

i'm comfortable with my portrayal of love as well??? i spend a lot of time thinking about what it is exactly that i'm trying to get across and i think it turns out well!!

What are things you wish you could practice more? on one hand i wanna get better at writing angst on the other hand i dislike writing angst. do you see my issue

One way you've improved your writing since you began? characterization!! i think i've gotten better at writing characters that are all Different and bring different things to the table!!! i used to project a lot more and it would compromise the characterization because the character was like 70% me and 30% them? not to say that projection is bad but if you do it too much it just,, doesn't read like the character and from a reader's standpoint the narrative can become less compelling

One aspect of writing you're still working on? writing action!!! i. literally hate writing it but i write for a fandom about superheroes so. Unfortunately i gotta learn.

A piece of writing advice you've learned while writing saw this on another tumblr post but they said sometimes if you're struggling with a scene, the problem is five lines back. i've found that to be true!!!! sometimes u gotta delete a chunk and start a little ways back!! i did this with too busy being yours because i was stuck for Weeks and i deleted like 25% of what i had but it helped me actually finish it :D

A bit of writing advice you can't stand when people shit on show don't tell for being overrated lmao bc when u read their writing you can Tell

Something you wish you knew when you first started writing? ,,,,honestly i kind of wish i could know some of the stuff that i used to when i first started writing?? technically i'm better now but creatively i was must better when i wasn't stressing about whether anyone would like what i was writing. so i guess i wish i knew that i should keep that confidence? i kinda wish that i wasn't as insecure about other people's writing styles because i never used to be!!

Something you've learned in life that you apply in writing there's no point in feeling inferior?? writing one genre isn't better than the other. being in one fandom isn't better than being in another. the kind of language you use or the length of your paragraphs- none of that stuff like. matters. what matters is that you're having fun and happy with what you're creating!!!! enjoy other peoples writing but don't let it make you feel worse about yours :D

#AHH ive wanted to answer these for so long...... bro fr i was so happy when u sent these!!! like wow!! finally got sent one!!!#sorry for how long the responses are idk how to be concise #asks #anon #a(lore)a

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star-maiden · 4 years

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2, 19, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25!!! Lol!

Hey! Thank you for asking. ☺️ Ok! Here we go! I’ll try to keep this short and sweet, but no promises. 😁 (Post edit: I made a valiant effort at not writing a short novel with my responses. I’m not sure that I succeeded. Haha! Thank you so much for playing the tarot ask game! I enjoyed answering these!)

2. Where or how did you start learning Tarot?

I started teaching myself tarot when I was 12 years old after spotting a beautiful tarot deck in my local bookstore and begging my mother to buy it for me. She wasn’t too keen on the idea because she was convinced that tarot cards were going to invite evil into our home or something ridiculous like that. Eventually she caved after I kept pleading with her so much that other people were starting to stare at us. I was a bit of a brat, tbh. 😂 But it lead me to where I am today, so I can’t complain too much. Tarot has been a powerful tool in my life so far, much like a dear friend. Combined, I’ve been reading/studying tarot for about 15 years, but I’ve only read tarot professionally (for other people) for a little over 8 years.

19. Do you have any weird or interesting experience with tarot?

I can tell you about the time I was pretty sure the Tower card was following me. This happened awhile ago, in the Summer. In every reading I did, no matter if it was for myself or a client, the Tower card would show up. Even while using multiple decks, there it was. The Tower. Every time. You’d think I would have noticed this as something significant, but as it turns out, I am very good at ignoring things I’d rather not deal with. Later that Summer, we had terrible wildfires that swept through the mountains and my hometown. Nearly 900 homes and businesses lost. I still swear to this day that the Tower card had been a warning.

21. 5 things you have learned from practicing tarot (about yourself, people, tarot, etc)?

Oh, this is an interesting one. Let me see...I think I’ll try to get a good variety of answers here.

Tarot is both very structured and completely subjective at the same time. Because of this, no two readers will interpret the cards in the exact same way, even if they share the same foundation of meanings.

Many times, when people seek a tarot reading, they are looking for an affirmation or some words of confidence. They already know what to do, and so the reading simply reflects their truth back at them. This isn’t always the case of course, but I find that a good percentage of the folks I work with are this way. This is why I think it’s important for a tarot reader to have strong empathy skills. A reader should strive to deliver the truth of a reading, but always with kindness.

If you seek an answer to a question that fills you with fear, the only thing you will see in the cards is that fear staring back at you. Guidance must be divined from a still mind and calm demeanor. This is why it is sometimes said that a reader shouldn’t read for themselves. (You can read for yourself, for the record. But for more emotionally charged situations, you may need some mental distance).

If you ask the same question over and over again, too many times, then the cards will eventually not respond. The reading will become muddy and nothing will make sense. This is true for self-readings, as well as those who ask the same question of multiple readers. Getting a different perspective is ok, but typically you should wait at least a month before consulting the cards again ok the same topic. Longer if the issue at hand is slow moving.

I, and likely many other readers, change my interpretations based on the deck I am using. The images and symbolism of the cards can really influence my readings. Even if I am looking at the same cards from different decks, I will interpret them all a bit differently. For this reason, I have some decks that are dedicated to specific themes.

22. Message/Tips for beginners OR querents?

For beginners to tarot: Take some time to learn your foundation of meaning. Yes, you can read intuitively, but your readings will be stronger if you know the relationship between each card and their traditional meanings. Knowing the traditional meanings also gives you something to fall back on if you find it difficult to tap into your intuition on command. They can act as a jump start for your brain. There are all sorts of activities that aren’t rote memorization that can help you learn the traditional meanings. I’ll list some for question 24.

For querents/clients: The more information you share with your reader, the better the reading will be. If you tell us what you already know about your situation, then we can focus our attention on what you want to know. Tarot is more of an art than a science. I don’t really mind either way, but I’d hate for you to be disappointed if your reading is only about things you’re already well aware of.

23. Your tarot journal/grimoire

Oh dear. 🙈 Both my tarot journal AND grimoire are such a mess. I scribble and write in Spanglish so it’s hardly even legible. I have 2 tarot journals, over 300 pages each. I don’t know that I will share photos of my writing (since it’s awful), but maybe I can share pics of the actual journals themselves at a later date. I keep all my readings for clients in a big, spiral notebook though. I’d like to say that this one is more organized, but it really isn’t. I write while not looking because I’m focused on the cards.

24. Recommendation (tarot readers, websites, videos, books, etc)?

If you are learning tarot and are having a hard time memorizing meanings, try the Tarot Coloring Book by Theresa Reed. It’s fun, it walks you through the meaning behind the traditional symbolism of the RWS deck, and you will likely remember the cards a lot better. Even experienced readers would enjoy working with this book, I think. It’s a great refresher, and who doesn’t love a coloring book?

25. What other interests do you have?

I love to read! Not just witchy things, but novels and fan fiction as well. I have 3 floor to ceiling bookshelves in my home and they’re all full of books. I also enjoy meditation, and I work with crystals a lot.

#star responds #witchy asks #asks #tarotblr

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the-headbop-wraith · 4 years

Text

1 _ 19 Brambles

Soft voices glide through the room, cutting and retuning to a new scene or tone or voice with rhythmic pauses. It was a delicate matter to set one claw to the button of the remote and press with a stiff finger, cycling through the dull white noise that made up the blubbering television theme of each channel. What was defined as ‘news’ was scarcely credible, many channels were dedicated to realty programs, infomercials that promised ‘satisfaction guaranteed or money back,’ and as always the static infused HBO special feature.

Therehad to be a better use for television. Humans just refused to find it, or the general population was content tonumb their minds into oblivion with this toxic waste of ozone. Mystery huffed into the folds of the blankethe lounged over, and pressed his paw to the button again. None of his companions had said anything, aslong as the soft background chatter remained below audible they were somewhateased by his habit. The dog halflistened as Vivi went over the next destinations marked on the map, there werea few but they had lost time after the van was put into the body shop for repairs. Mystery rolled over, sliding the telly remote along the sheet cover as he did, for ease of access and the minimal of movement required of reaching it.

The argument between Vivi and Arthur had been typical, Arthur on the opposing side wanting no pair of hands on the van aside from his own, and Vivi adamant about getting the exterior of the van patched up. Lewis had been like Mystery, huddled outside in the parking lot where it was relatively safe. In the end, Arthur had folded under the assurance that nothing within the vans metal hull would be tampered with. That had been the case of course from the beginning, even Vivi didn’t want the off chance of strange people poking through the vans back, and seeing the mess that none of them had made the effort to pick up. There was no concern shed over the ward scripts, carved stones, and endless containers of sage and salt stashed in the cuvees – all over the floor. Long ago Vivi had given up any attempt to explain these items to the inquisitive outsider.

“But the baseball stadium sounds more interesting,” Vivi said. She and Lewis had the selection narrowed down – a hospital, a maternity store, and a bed and breakfast that was on their route. Mystery personally preferred the bed and breakfast, and they might just stop in along the way since it was literally on one of their roads. “A batter ghost? Why is he there, and who is he?” She scrolled through one of the tabs she had opened on the main page, there were a few pictures but nothing clear, no definite image of a spirit aside from a gray glob that could be easily be explained as lens flares or rudimentary odd shadows.

Behind her hovered Lewis, just above the head rest of the hard chair she had claimed. Mystery had caught Arthur glancing over at Lewis a few times, from his position on the opposite side of the one bed. It was probably difficult for him to wrap his mind around the sight, with Arthur being the analytical one of the group, struggling to rationalize whatever science there was into a free floating body. To describe it, imagine bungee cords that are not visible, Lewis’ body was parallel of the floor but suspended a good two feet above the headrest and peering over Vivi’s fluff of blue hair and into the computer she held on her lap.

“What’s this activity about?” Lewis inquired. His body dips down, folded arms coming within inches of the headrest above Vivi. He spoke aloud before she could read off the page, “‘Seen after games end on the field, sometimes caught in the stadiums big screen.’ Groovy.”

“There’s speculation he, or she – we don’t know – they could be a fan,” Vivi continued. “There’s a case where one of the spectators suffered a concussion from a free flying ball, but they never went to the hospital and by the time they realized how serious the concussion had been, it was too late.” She shifted in the uncomfortable seat, and Lewis raised himself a foot more reflexively. “They could be trapped there or something. What do you think, Art?”

Mystery recoiled from his leisure sprawl when Arthur jerked on the bed. “Who- what?” Arthur sputtered. He had met eyes with Lewis, when the free suspended body had shifted so Lewis could see him better. Vivi kindly reminded Arthur the subject they were discussing, and Arthur set aside his notebook as he thought it over. “Batter ghost sounds the most low key, but what about the rumors?”

Vivi tapped at the laptop, and Lewis shifted to view the key words she searched for. “There are all the usual grainy shots, most caught when there’s a game. Lots of people, lots of cameras going off?” She rubbed her finger over the scroll pad quickly, eyes flashing behind her magenta glasses. “There are a few post game pics, but they don’t look any more better.”

“We could do with another low key investigation,” Lewis chimed in.

“You liked the ‘Owl Widow’ ghost?” Vivi accused, half a smirk on her face. The Owl Widow had been horrifying as hell, but she was all bark and no bite.

“I can sympathize with anyone who would terrorize people that would hike all the way out to my house, to wreck the furniture and break the windows,” Lewis grumbled. “But… she had such a gentle heart. After all those years, it’s a tragedy.”

Vivi sighed and sank down in the chair, she pushed the laptop higher up onto her knees for Lewis viewing ease. “She’ll be okay,” she persisted. “Decades gone by and she just keeps on protecting those owls.”

Mystery folded his wrists together and pinned the remote under his lower paw. Those that study the occult would recall a myth which went, when a person and an animal die in each other’s company the souls are bound, and if the trauma of the event was powerful enough, a spirit would return. The people of the town spoke of a young birder who had a favorite owl she took out to train. It was believed that hunters may have mistaken her for some animal and shot her, and her owl, or some variation of the scenario. Murder was suspected but due to lack of evidence ruled out, and the case was never solved. However, not long following the incident hikers and campers began to tell stories about an abandoned home in the area, where dozens of owls would congregate to roost, and at night the shrill cry of a woman or a shrieking owl was heard within. Few would dare stay in the home, and those that attempted only made it a few hours into the evening before the ear splitting shrieks would drive them out into the night.

The Mystery Skulls had no problem with the Owl Widow and even believed the rumors false, until they as a group ventured up into the unexplored attic where the owls roosted during the day. Vivi had no way of hailing the spirit, and the Owl Widow was as feral and skittish as any bird. When the Owl Widow realized she was discovered, she abruptly vanished without a trace. Later, Vivi learned that it was the local’s thrill seekers sport to stay in the home or try to draw out the Owl Widow for a good scare, and that was commonly done by vandalizing the home. This disgusted Vivi and she refused to do anything more that would negatively affect the spirit.

Arthur climbed off the motels bed and gave Mystery’s head a warm rub as he waked by. Mystery took his cue and climbed off the bed and followed his companion to the door, where Arthur pivoted and stopped him.

“Stay here,” Arthur urged, motioning the dog with his metal hand as his other hand took the door handle. Mystery sat down and tilts his head as Arthur backed out. “I’ll be back in a gif, I’m just gonna check the laundry.” Mystery raised an eyebrow as Arthur turned away and shut the door between them.

“Hurry back, then,” Vivi answered. Mystery glanced her way as she resumed scrolling. “It irks me though.” Lewis hummed in question and Vivi continued. “This would be a lot of work running around, for one ghost. Stadiums are huge, unless we find a binding object.”

“What’s the info on our subject?” Lewis asked, and pointed to the screen. “Is there anything? A name?”

“We could just use any old baseball I guess, if that’s what caused their death.” Vivi was clicking links, hunting for a newspaper article in the cities historical database. “There’s a lawsuit, but when s’there not? Mystery.” The dog looked up at Vivi when she called his name. “Arthur said he wouldn’t be gone long. Don’t worry.”

“That link there,” Lewis cut in, pointing to the un-highlighted title among the few darker cousin links on the screen. “I got a good feeling about that.”

“Keep your socks on. I got it.” She clicked it and the two read silently to themselves.

Mystery shrugged his shoulders and returned to the bed. The layout of the motel room was as basic, dry, and boring as the thousands they had the privilege to stay in before – table, armchair, lamp, vanity desk, single bed – a picture print of a pasture with deer grazing in the tall grass, a distant lake and tall trees surrounding the scenery – framed and hung on the wall above the bed. Mystery stretched out over the tussled sheets and adjusted his thin ankles over a stiff fold of the covers. He raised the volume only slightly and resumed his meditation through channel surfing.

“There was also this guy that overheated and died while in the mascot costume,” Vivi mentioned. “You’d think he’d come back as some sort of demon bonded to his costume.”

Lewis often wondered over Vivi’s unique style of thinking. “What was the costume?”

Vivi fixed her hairband, then put her hands back to the keyboard and scrolled. “A badger?”

“The stadium no longer sounds low key?” Lewis humped. He rolled sideways in mid hover and folded one arm under his neck, as if to support his head by some invisible tabletop. “None of the reports remark on any aggression, accidents?”

“No, you big chicken.”

“Bawk-bawk,” Lewis droned, void of any enthusiasm. “Is it too much to ask that we return to cases where some… angry thing doesn’t come crashing out of the shadows with a huge chip on its shoulder? Have I mentioned, I would like that?” He nods, as if agreeing over an important matter.

“Well…” Vivi let her voice trail off, and glanced up at Lewis. They had those cases too often. Failed cases she categorized them. The encounters which were too volatile for traditional techniques and it was advised by any veteran paranormal investigator, that if you have no training in that particular field, you have no right to meddle with it. In those instances it is strongly advised to pack up and book it rather risk harm, or worse. It was another topic she wanted to ask Arthur about, but she wouldn’t bring it up with Lewis since he was in that realm himself.

That place, it would have been one, it should have been a Failed case. They just didn’t recognize the danger in time. Another notch, a proud scar in their resume. They never failed a case, but often the case did fail them, and she had failed them.

Packed up and ran away. No matter what danger they left to those that came in their wake. Let the experienced, the demon hunters, deal with it.

“Huh?” Lewis asked, slanting one dark eye at her.

Vivi gave her head a shake and returned her attention to the screen. “I thought of something. Anyway,” she paused, noting she had exited out of some of the history articles. “Just a bunch of sightings. Nothing threatening.”

“Great,” Lewis chirped. “What were you thinking, then?”

“I was wondering,” Vivi mumbled and curled down into the chairs back. She looked up as Lewis peered down at her, prompting her to go on. “Well….”

“Well what?” There was something in his voice, something that had been absent until recent. Vivi had only realized it herself, but his voice was sounding more natural, vocal rather hollow. Solid as if projected, rather than suggested through the vague scratch of an outdated radio. The slight transition had been lost to her, while in constant company of her subject. She wondered what sort of voice outsiders heard when Lewis spoke with them, or were they oblivious? She could ask Arthur how much Lewis’ voice had changed. “Vi?”

“Are you aware you’re floating?” Vivi looked between Lewis and the floor, through the back of the chair she was nestled in. “Can you do that intentionally or—” She winced to the audible thud that came. “Uhh….”

“I was not aware,” Lewis’ garbled voice came, somewhere beyond the chairs back. “Thank you for notifying me.”

“Explain that to me.” Vivi set the laptop down on the seat cushion and stood up, to peer over the chairs headrest. “How can you not realize you’re free floating?” She pulled back and sat on her knees when Lewis poked his head up, skull in place of a face, and he resumed a buoyant hover above the floor.

“I’m kidding,” he said, as he fixed the jacket collar. Lewis felt his face, recognized the common distinction of solid spectral that symbolized his skull. “My concentration broke— I knew I was, but….” He fumbled, voice breaking off into scratches and he gave up. “Hard to explain.” He winced and looked up to Vivi when she set her hand on the side of his skull. The embers of his eyes brightened, most noticeably in Vivi’s glasses as she smiled at him.

“I get it,” she hummed. “I’ll try not to do that again.”

Lewis let his gleaming eyes dim and fall away from her tender gaze. He pressed his cheek into Vivi’s palm and let his ethereal essence sooth out, calming from the choppy ripples that dug through his usual insubstantial eminence. Passive waves rolled through Vivi’s aura, strong, vibrant, and cool. No wonder she had such power over the spirits; how could she not? It was compelling and desirable, more than the once strong call that had persisted on him in that early time. As the days ticked away the call became less, and less vibrant, until the draw had subsided into faint tugs; unpalatable and easily ignored. Bleu Moyen. High blue waves to dose his fires, severing his ties to the ravenous fury and blind ambition. So clear. Everything became so crystal clear when he was with Vivi.

A low shudder burned in Lewis, when Vivi leaned over the headrest to kiss the upper edge of his jaw. His eyes brightened in their dark sockets and a wisp of flame faded as Vivi drew back. Lewis didn’t want to lose her, he could scarcely recall that time of the between. He only wanted to believe his feelings were genuine.

An interesting segment was on the history channel, describing ancient magicians of centuries past. Mystery turned his ears up as the narrator described a priest of the pharaoh whom became famous for cutting the heads of various animals, and that animal would function normally, walk around, but without a head; after some time the priest would restore the head to the creature and it would resume life as normal. This spectacle was never performed on a human, never a servant, the priest would always refuse, and what matter of the illusion was never discovered, though attempts have been made to recreate it.

By the programs end, Mystery was on his side fully content to watch out the conclusion. No animals were harmed during the making of the program. A hollow promise, but it had some effect of easing him a little to see the message and be reminded that some humans did care. He rotates his head over to see Vivi more or less in the chair, she would be in the chair if Lewis wasn’t under her. They had resumed discussion of what case was more favorable, but softer, as if Mystery wasn’t there. He took a deep breath and let the air wheeze out of his nose.

Wait.

Mystery rolled over, off the bed and padded to the door. He sniffed along the edge picking up Arthur’s most recent scent, and pawed at the scuffed up white paint of the door. Mystery whined and looked up to Vivi and she peered over the computer in her lap, down at him.

“What’s up, Mystery?”

He barked and sidestepped at the door. Arthur. How long has Arthur been gone? Mystery resumed scratching at the door, and reared up on his hinds legs to take the L shaped handle between his wrists.

“He should’ve been back,” Vivi paused as she looked to the clock on the laptop. “Forever ago.” She stood up off of Lewis and crossed to the vanity desk, where the telly was stationed. She unplugged the computer, shut it, and stuffed it into her overnight bag on the desk. She fished around for the room key as Lewis raised up from the chair.

“Maybe he had to re-dry the clothes,” Lewis suggested. He stepped up beside Vivi and set his hand upon the shimmering surface of the mirror, and stared into the steady state of his skull and bright eye sockets. He had worked on this off and on, he could ‘jolt’ his state back into his more favorable appearance with a flash of a thought.

“Or he could’ve gone for a walk.” He briefly examined his face, the stubborn dark eyes, then turned to Vivi. “Clear his head. Think for a bit? He’s been really quiet lately.”

Vivi’s attention was directed past Lewis, toward Mystery standing on his rear legs. Mystery had tottered backwards with the door following his movements, and was now stepping out. The door began to slip shut, but stopped when Mystery blocked its progress and gave a bark at them to hurry. “Mystery doesn’t like to be away from Arthur for too long,” she said, as reason. “I worry about him, I have to.” Mystery ducked out of the doorway when Vivi stepped over to him.

“I know.” Lewis snatched his sunglasses off the table as he followed Vivi out the door, and into the blazing sun of midafternoon. Way past noon, the sky was getting the dusky soft purples that Lewis appreciated. He wanted to converse with Vivi about the one time when the group managed to get hopelessly lost and spread out around the motel, only because they kept following each other around the main office building, with a length of the wall distancing them apart. What messed them up was that they were just barely in ear shot, they could hear the nearest person but in all the confusion they never got it across, “Stay right there, I’m coming.” They had run around in circles all day, but the scenario was straight from a cartoon and they had great fun anyway.

He decided not to encourage the memory. It wasn’t so much for her benefit, but the thought of it pained him worse than….

“We just barely ate an hour ago,” Vivi mentioned. She and Lewis followed Mystery down the steps and through the small hallway that cut between the two halves of the motel. As per destiny, the nearest convenience mart was adjacent to the motel. Night or day, it didn’t matter to Arthur when he drank an energy drink. Hell, he’d drink one before taking a nap. Vivi would check there next. “You didn’t have to come.”

Lewis gave a sheepish smirk, missed by Vivi. “Well, you didn’t stop me.”

Vivi could smell the warm scent of the dyer heaters as they walked along the wall to the laundry room; beside the kids play area, and the gated and tarped pool. She pulled the door open and let Mystery and Lewis enter before she followed them into the cramped room. “Not here?” she spoke, as she moved into the adjoining room with the washers and laundry detergent vendor.

Mystery’s paws scratched and clacked on the cool tile as he wandered around, sniffing under a table and then at the edge of a wall. He turned to Vivi and gave some soft barks that echoed, unintentionally loud, off the walls. Arthur hadn’t been here lately, but with all the oddball scents it was a trial to discern accurately a time.

The dryer was still thumping and rumbling. Lewis examined the timer and found it had fifteen more minutes. “If you don’t think you’ll need me, can I have the room key so I can get this stuff up there?” he asks.

“Sure.” Vivi pulled the car key out of her wrist sleeve and handed it over to Lewis. “We’ll see you back in the room in’a bit.” She waved to Lewis as she returned to the glass door, Mystery scratched over the slippery linoleum to catch up with her at the door. “Chao.”

“Good luck,” Lewis answered, as the door shut. A few minutes drift by and a thought occurred to Lewis. When Arthur stepped out, Lewis wasn’t certain but he didn’t think Arthur had picked up the laundry bag. If Arthur had come to the same conclusion, Lewis might run into him on his way to or from the room.

The room was still empty of Arthur and provided no insight of a short return. Vivi shut the door and took the opposite path along the rooms, her eyes scanned about as she walked, in hopes to catch the faint blur of yellow contrasted on the open car lot below. Mystery padded at her heel as they took the route for the back stairs that ran above the main office. Below, a group of kids laugh as they race by, shoes slapping on the hard cement. Vivi tottered at the rail trying to catch sight of the jovial youths; maybe Arthur was down there lost in his own thoughts and mildly discomforted from the innocent play. It seemed like the situation he would be tossed into when he craved some seclusion. The sounds fade somewhere, and if Arthur is below she cannot see him from the angle she’s at above.

“It’s a beautiful day,” Vivi murmured. She paused on the steps to look out from the narrow arch and scanned the clear sky, the moist tinge still on the air from the recent rains. “There was a park when we rode in, wasn’t there?”

Mystery stood sideways on the steps and stares at the sky. He gave a soft yap.

“I know this deal with the van put us on a tight schedule, but we can do with a lil TLC.” She continued down the steps, and Mystery followed. “We’ve spent so many weeks cooped up together, I forget what open air feels like.”

The road that cut through this section of the city was not very busy, even throughout the day when people would be busy with errands. Vivi with Mystery crossed to the nearest shop mart with the highest gas prices she had seen in a hundred miles. Down the sidewalk from their current residence, it was only a few blocks among the stores and cafes to the open flat of the body shop where the van was being adjusted. The body shop was only going to fix up the ragged sides where the van had fallen and scraped, part of the deal was allowing Arthur to do the paint job himself. That would leave the van looking half finished and metallic until they returned to home base.

As Vivi pushed the door of the convenience store open, a blast of balmy air hit her. Immediately the clerk at the cashier counter piped up:

“I’m sorry, miss. No dog’s allowed.”

Vivi let Mystery in anyway, and Mystery went on his way examining the racks assorted foods, and the doughnut case positioned across from the cashier counter. “He’s a therapy dog,” Vivi answered.

The cashier, a tall woman with curly hair, hesitates as she looks back to the white dog free of a leash. “Do you have papers?” She seemed uneasy as Mystery sniffed along the corner of the tall doughnut case. In Mystery’s defense, the doughnuts smelled exceptional that day.

“That depends,” Vivi rebuked. She turned from the woman and looked over the near empty store, a few people drift around picking at the inventory in various sections – sweet, salty, and standard household goods. “Did you see a guy come in here? Shocked yellow hair, quail curl, orange vest.” She turned to the cashier and the blank stare the woman wore. Vivi motioned her elbow. “Metal arm?”

Indeed it was a beautiful day. Arthur was glad he had stepped out to enjoy it, get some fresh air. He hoped the van was all right, he hated the thought of strange people putting their greasy hands all over his pride and joy. Even if the van liked to break down in the harsh weather conditions, or guzzled gas like a leech did fresh blood, they didn’t pay for it. He never asked how much it was going to cost, but Vivi had been the one driving at the time and she always insisted on these matters. Arthur gave up trying to fight her about it long ago.

He sighed and leaned back into the cool wall in the stores shadow. It was cold only in the shadow, but standing in direct sunlight had warmed his chest too much and so here he stood in the shade, listening to the children in the nearby neighborhoods whoop and holler in play. He put his hand back in his pocket, pushed the pack of gum aside, and pulled up the chainless pocket watch. Four thirty-nine. The laundry should be done by now, he didn’t want a collection of his pants in bacon ripple style. Sickly yellow, bacon ripple style… whatever.

The watch went back in his pocket and Arthur brought the cigarette back to his lips for another draw. His eyes half closed and he let the sizzle work in his throat. Two more minutes. He calculated the time up in his head, two more minutes coupled with the walk back to the motel—, he forgot the bag. Get the bag, go back down and collect the freshly dried pants and shirts. Or he could forget the bag, have five more minutes to let his blood mellow.

“Arthur!”

He jumps in place and turns to Vivi’s accusing stare. “Hey. I didn’t worry you, did I?” he rasped. Arthur took another breath and looked down from Vivi, to Mystery huddled behind her legs. When Vivi began towards him, Mystery turns and bolts out of sight. Arthur backed up and hit the wall. He gets out a vague question as Vivi slaps the cigarette out of his metal hand. “Whoa now! What gives you the right—” He shut his mouth when Vivi grips the front of his shirt and heaves back a fist.

“You promised me you quit!” she snarled.

“I did! I DID!” Arthur tenses but makes no move to defend his face. He probably deserved it.

It was on the prescription, among the long list of drugs compiled into his blood to keep his kidneys from shriveling up, his heart pumping, his capillaries clear of toxins. They worried about toxins in his blood. Arthur had laughed that day, it was so out of character they had to call in a psychiatrist to evaluate whether or not his brain had suffered mental trauma that was not foreseen since his earlier evaluations. Oh what medical science was blind to; oh what they were willfully ignorant of. The only person that might’ve gotten the joke, wouldn’t have gotten it anyway. That cruel irony made looking at her twice as difficult for the remainder of the month, but he found his way out of it.

The doctors advised Arthur to quit, obstructed capillary networks was what they labeled it. It was common in amputees.

“Was this your first pack?” Vivi growled, tugging Arthur towards her.

He choked and spat out a no. “I’m gonna stop though, I will!” he stammered, leaning back. Why was Vivi so strong? Arthur was no heavyweight, but she could pick up Lewis when he was alive. “It always helped, with the… it just helped!”

“We have sage!” she hissed, face twisting, tears brimming in her eyes.

“But that’s so rude!” Arthur cringed down fully expecting the blow to connect and knock some sense back into him. He bought gum and sometimes chewed that instead, but it wasn’t the same. He’d show Vivi once she calmed down. He was hauled forward, staggering through the dark shade of his thoughts and awaiting the flash of light from her fist to cleave through his mind… but the harsh blow never comes. Instead, soft arms wrap around him. Arthur risks opening his eyes and stares down on the weed riddled pavement behind her blue heels. His muscles remained locked, he didn’t dare move even when Vivi’s shoulders quivered. Arthur clenched his fists at his sides and rested his chin on the poofy sweater around her neck.

“I should have asked,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “I should have asked you.” She squeezed tighter around Arthur’s chest, as if fortifying his presence with her embrace. “Why didn’t I?”

“You…” he began, and hesitated. Vivi said nothing, hadn’t calmed down, and Arthur went on, “already knew the answer. Nothing’s changed. This is fine.”

“No, it’s wrong.” She pressed her forehead into the collar of that stupid amber vest Arthur always insisted on wearing. “I wasn’t thinking about you, I wasn’t worried that…. Jesus, I don’t think.” How could she forget? Why had she been blind to this? For all her intuition, her flexible and quick mind, how could she overlook such simple, yet crucial details? Essential, yet fragile. Delicate, but poisonous. A balance that tipped dangerously.

Arthur brought his arms up and wrapped them around her shoulders, gently. “Vi, we’ve talked,” he insists. “I told him I was solid. I don’t have the right—” Arthur froze again when Vivi recoiled and pushed him back by his shoulders.

“That’s not an invitation!” She snapped. “That’s submission! That won’t do.” Arthur let his head hang, but Vivi cups his chin in her fingers and pushed his face up. “No, Art. Look, I’m not mad, I’m frustrated. Well, maybe that’s not the truth. I’m mad at me, not you. But— Would you look at me! I’m frustrated, that’s it.” She stares into Arthur’s face as his eyes crease and his brows stretch, into a conflicted expression she was too familiar with. “You’re not allowed to destroy yourself. Are you listening?” He nods, and tries to let his eyes drop from her steady gaze. “What did I just say?”

“Don’t wreck myself,” he mumbled, below a breath.

“That’s good enough, I guess.” Vivi sighed, and raised a thumb up to touch the lone tear that had made it past Arthur’s resistance. “How do I save you? How do I save my boys?”

“I miss Lewis,” Arthur says. He shuts his eyes and begins to slip down to the cold ground, his knees fold up under him. Vivi helps him down, pulling at his vest and trying not to grip the upper space of his left arm where metal met flesh. “I’m keeping it together, pulling myself back.” Vivi kneels in front of him and pulls him upright when he begins to sag sideways over his knees. “I’m not gonna fuck this up too. I can do this.” He shuts his eyes and presses his metal palm to his forehead in an effort to cool his fevered brow. “I can do this. Just… just give me some time, and I’ll work it out.”

“Hey.” Vivi brought her hands up and clasped Arthur around his forehead, his shocked blond hair folded under her palms as she held him. Arthur tucked his eyelids shut and winced to her touch. “Don’t push yourself so hard. It’ll… you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I know my limits,” he murmured. Arthur feels his heart being ripped in two, skewered by icy teeth and shredded across his ribs. “I can endure. I can.”

“Don’t give me that,” Vivi hissed. “You’re not impervious to— Art, wait!” Arthur had ripped himself from her hands and managed up onto his feet, stumbling a bit as he spun away from Vivi still crouched on the broken asphalt. Vivi hopped to her feet and followed his stabbing steps. “Art’ur!” She jerks back when he whirls on her.

“I’m not fragile, Vi! God, I’m not going to come apart and scatter in the wind.” Arthur screams, his body movements erratic as he gestures with his hands; the prosthetic arm is dull and awkward while he’s amid a state of distress. “My legs are strong, my mind’s still here! I’m okay! Just… chill.” He motions his arms, bringing them down to his hip level as Vivi watched. “You don’t trust me? Do you?”

Vivi searched for something else to focus on, and settled for the edge of the motels roof beyond the corner of the convenience store Arthur had hidden behind. “Sometimes you forget Art,” she says. “You’re so focused on anything else, you avoid the little things.” She shakes her head and then looks back to Arthur. “I don’t want to forget for you. I can’t drag you down.”

Arthur stuffs his hands into his pockets and toes at the crumbling cement, trying to dislodge a thick stubborn stalk of a wilting weed. He recollected on Vivi before the Cave, ambitious headstrong Vivi, always leading the way. Lewis always right there for her, to grab her and pull her back from the edge of disaster when it suddenly opened up in her path. And Arthur… him, always a step behind, the last one into the room, always lagging behind the others. The first to run, or the one somehow caught.

“Vi,” he says, “you never dragged me. If anything—” He stopped, and looked up at her. “You brought me back. You were there when I woke up.”

Vivi doesn’t meet his eyes as she moves towards Arthur. She takes him by the wrist of his metal arm and pulls the hand into hers and examines the stiff, numb digits, Arthur had carved himself. “I wasn’t always there,” she confessed. “I didn’t want to be there. Art?”

“Hmm?” The air became chilled when a cloud, or the sun, had inched behind some obstruction that blocked the strong yellow rays. He couldn’t feel Vivi’s fingers tracing the mars and etches in place of his metal palm, he could only detect the vibrations he had grown accustomed to when faint touch fell onto his false limb. When he had built his first prosthetic and attached it, Vivi had never taken a second look at it. He had always been gratified by this.

“We should look for Mystery,” she suggests, and tugs him by the wrist with no force applied. “I think he went this way.”

Arthur followed without protest. “We should talk a bit.”

“We’ll talk a bit,” Vivi echoed, leading Arthur behind her by his hand.

“It’s such a nice day, or was,” Arthur muttered, and squinted at the darkening contours of the sky.

Vivi led their way towards a dark alley behind the convenience store, chain link fences and the clay floor packed down, overgrown with trees and weeds. It looked more interesting and secluded than the open sidewalk beside a road. “I thought we could hit the park tomorrow.” Vivi’s voice brightened a bit.

As they departed the wall and Vivi’s voice twittered with the prospect of a day for just them, a dark shadow rose across the glossy paint of the brick. The shadow seeps from the walls surface and reforms itself, bright magenta illuminates along its outline and spreads across its torso and legs. A gilded heart pulses at the broad chest as the dark hue fades by degrees, until it is restored to its pacified shape.

Lewis took a step from the wall and leaned back onto it, he crossed his arms over his chest as he watched Vivi and Arthur disappear down the alley. He thought of following them and making certain Vivi was safe, but he decided that may have been a lame excuse to eavesdrop on following conversations. He’d… done enough of that.

“What happened to us? I mean, why did we let this happen?”

Vivi’s words rattled in his mind. He remembered Arthur then, catatonic, sleeping. His aura had been in its most indolent in that state, and Lewis had for a moment believed Arthur had died, if not for the shallow movement of his chest.

The questions plagued his deepest contemplations, alternating, “Why did we? What happened?” As if she were before him now asking the same question, inquiring for some form of answer he too yearned insight into. There remained the questioned he flittered away from, the ones that he could ponder over for long hours, while time held him prison to witness superficial events from afar. The locket thrummed at his chest, always steady, sometimes thunderous, and then at other times its as somber as a coo. The questions in their most basic function nibbled at him: What and Why?

It was all a ruse, he promised himself. He only intended to frighten them. Get them to abandon his mansion and force them far-FAR away, never to return. Leave him to sleep and forget, and fade away with each pulse of his heart. That was his intent, he swore it was all that he meant to do. Play up the theatrics, convince them it was not worth their time or sanity. He was incapable of killing.... unlike Arthur; it was beyond his nature, he swore it wouldn't go that far no matter how much… he suffered. The long, endless cycle of time tormenting his existence, abandoned and betrayed by someone he thought of as a dear friend. Something... somewhere… it all went wrong.

Reuniting with Arthur. The event brought something out of him, something he never genuinely contested before. Not with earnest. The unbridled horror in Arthur's features when Lewis emerged from his coffin, the unsightly attributes which cost everything he held dear and precious; his brazen perplexity upon seeing this… ghost. It pissed him off. He wanted to wipe it out, make Arthur taste some of that spite that curdled his soul. He couldn't stop, he absolutely could not stop himself. How far could he drive Arthur on before he broke? Arthur deserved the suffering, the torment and hostility unleashed by his failings. Nothing would make this right, but Lewis also couldn't elude that anger. It was as much of a part of him now as the locket affixed to his chest. Inseparable.

And then she was there. It had happened so fast and Lewis couldn’t bear it. The ache in his hollowed chest when he saw her for the first time since….

He said goodbye.

Why he remained far past his expiration was never a controversy for him. The question that stumped him when he was not careful, and it came upon him when his defenses were down: What was he now?

Lewis rounded the corner of the convenience store and walked across the parking lot. He saw Mystery on the sidewalk beyond the gas pumps waiting for Vivi, or him, he was on the sidewalk beside the crosswalk marks that bridge across to the motel. The dog perked up at Lewis’ approach, and Lewis said nothing until he reached his four legged ally. “How’s it going?” Lewis rattled, his voice near toneless.

Mystery’s answer was to tilt his head and lower one ear at an angle. He stood and pivots to cross the road, glancing around for any speeding traffic; there were no cars but Mystery was careful to look anyway. He spins about when Lewis begins to walk off, and Mystery pads up to follow at a distance.

“I’m not going back to the room yet,” Lewis explained. “Vi and Art are looking for you.”

Mystery’s steps slowed and he fell back. That didn’t make sense, any one of them knew without a fail that if he was separated from his company, he would either turn up at the van or the current place of occupation. He gave his head a shake as he resumed his quick pace, struggling to keep up with Lewis long stride. It was evident Lewis was in no hurry, but Lewis probably wanted to be alone and Mystery knew he couldn’t allow that.

They came to the busier district of the widespread city. Mystery recognized it down the road from the motel, an easy to and from for some of the better diners and the cafes. Arthur was impossible when it came to the prospect of being stranded, and the distance to a place for a worthwhile cup of coffee. Mystery woofed at Lewis’ back. Lewis didn’t need a reminder that he was out in public, and not dressed for one on one interactions. Numerous shops throughout the city block catered to tourists, featuring carved wooden animals, jewelry, or rugs and quilts. The small clumps of people they passed would give Mystery odd stares, and Mystery began to wonder what for. It wasn’t unusual for people to stroll around with a ‘pet’ off the leash, was there a city ordinance he was not aware of?

Then it dawned on him. No shadow was cast under Lewis and he had no reflection in the shop windows. Lewis was hiding.

This didn’t alarm Mystery, if it was Lewis’ wish to go unnoticed then he was entitled to that. For Mystery matters were complicated. Head up, chest puffed out, ears proud and forward facing. He had someplace to be and that was where he was headed. He observed that humans rarely bothered a dog with confidence, minding his or her own business and on their way to wherever dogs go. What humans did not trust was a timid, confused, lost creature that scuttled away from attention or drifted around. If he kept moving it would make tracking him difficult. Even so, he had his collar and tags and people would regard that and conclude he was just a regular out for a walk. He would be fine, and he had some notion of Lewis’ destination.

As predicted they arrived at the body shop where the van was left. Show Car Remake and Renew, a general garage and minor vehicle repairs. The main garage was a long gray building with a few windows along the uppermost walls, and the large shutter doors at the base drawn down and locked for the evening. The far side of the lot was overnight parking, the cars and trunks caged in by tall barbed wire fence. Mystery followed Lewis to the fence but was forced to wait, as his transparent companion slipped through the metal links and entered amongst the many vehicles.

Mystery lost sight of the ghost as his tall figure weaved around the portion of large vehicles and trunks. Mystery spun around and looked back to the road as the first streetlamps snapped on, cars sped by and after a short time of waiting the street quieted. It was getting late, the air grew colder. He sat down and gave the spot behind his ear a dedicated scratch, working to straighten out the hair bent there. He tensed when a white utility trunk drove by and seemed to slow down – at least to Mystery it looked like the vehicle was stopping – but no, the truck sped up and the dog let out a sigh. Never was the best time to run off and get lost somewhere in a strange city, with strange people, and strange beliefs.

Vivi and Arthur would be wondering where he was, if they had managed to reach the room by now. They shouldn’t worry, but Mystery admitted he was not immune to dangers, or the mild irritations offered by the few humans he could do without meeting.

The sudden awareness of a presence at his back caused Mystery to twist around. It was only Lewis, slipping through the large chain links in the fence. Mystery examined him over and noted the piece of cloth tangled in his hand. Ah.

Lewis looked at the cloth between his fingers as he untangled it. “Are you still afraid of me?” Mystery raises his snout higher and glares through his spectacles at Lewis. “Would it be enough if I apologized?” He unfolded and refolded the cloth and straightened out the creases to the best of his ability. It had been folded and pressed wrong for quite some time.

Mystery give a soft woof and steps back from Lewis. They should head back now. The dapper specter wouldn’t budge.

“You were there for Arthur,” Lewis whispered, traces of flames bud from his shoulders and hair. “But not for me. Why not? Why is it…?” He tightened his fist around the sad piece of cloth, “Why did I have to be the one abandoned?” He looked down when Mystery stepped forward and set a paw on his foot, the white face looked up at him. Before Lewis could utter a word, Mystery had whisked away and was already halfway across the parking lot, the faint tapping of his claws fade as the ghost stares after him.

He could have just haunted Arthur. Or he could have remained in his mansion, his sanctuary from the world ticking by with the tempo of the seasons cycling through, worlds moving; moon sweeping through crescent to quarter, harvest and back to the new moon. What time had passed while he had slumbered? Existing but not in a state of present, not dispersing but not fully cumulative either. A piece of himself was lost in every wedge of every day, not noticed and not missed. Small segments of his childhood, the places they frequented as kids, the warm smiles of his parents. How could he miss what he couldn’t reflect with? It may have been a process of Acceptance, or it just happened naturally. He ceased to worry, and he couldn’t care. The lethargy of simply existing drained him heavily, and he fed on the lone coal of his passion, his raison d'etre. What purpose, and what meaning had come to him, when the cycle of existence had evicted a squatter?

It was Mystery’s aura that had stirred him. That wild, untamed thing – a font of composer and class, with a writhing tangle of insanity that clawed for escape. He would know it anywhere, it was the last, and first thing he had latched onto before the fulcrum of his final volition had scattered. He didn’t remember much in that span of time between… before….

The light of the motel room was out. The curtains were drawn shut, as Vivi had left them, and the walls would be absolutely silent, if not for the dull rattle of the heater. Night was well upon the motel now, and Vivi and Arthur would not be far behind it. Without a thought Lewis pushed his palms into the cracked stucco of the wall, and allowed his unsubstantial shape to slither through the cold molecules of cheap drywall and plaster. Mystery gave a soft yap at his back as he faded, and then, the room was opened up before Lewis. The interior air warm from the buzzing heater in the wall, bags and a few essential supplies sat in grainy detail along one wall, the bed was overtaken by blues and yellows. Lewis turns back to the door and pulls the handle, but stood in the way when Mystery tried to nudge through and enter with him. Lewis picked up the piece of cloth he had dropped, but paused as Mystery searched for a way around him.

Somewhere in the parking lot below the walkway, Lewis could pick up on the soft warble of Vivi’s voice accompanied by the timid tones of Arthur’s speech. “Hold on,” Lewis murmured, as he shooed Mystery out of the threshold. “They’ll let you in, but I have something to do real quick.” Mystery stiffened when Lewis gave his scalp a comforting rub, an action Mystery was unaware of how much he missed. Mystery stepped away when Lewis straightened up and shut the door.

What… just happened?

Mystery whined. That was not fair! He scratched at the door and sniffed at the crack along the frame and listened for the muffled sounds from behind the door. He tugged at the handle, though he knew the door couldn’t be opened without a key.

“What up, Mystery?” Arthur was the first to ask. He stepped behind the dog and raised his knuckles to the door, rapping gently.

Vivi leaned down and hugged Mystery around his shoulders, plucking him up off his front feet as she rocked him. “Did Lew leave you outside?” Mystery whined and stared at Arthur, pleaded at Arthur’s back with his eyes. “I’ll talk to him about it, and we’ll fix this.” Mystery strained his whimpers, and Vivi took note of that tone in his voice. “D’you have a key, Art?”

“Hmm? Yeah, sure,” he muttered, as he began digging through his pockets. Arthur found the thin plastic card easily, and with one swipe the red light on the handle lock flicks to green. “Lew?” He asked softly as he pushed the door open, intent to enter before Vivi for once. “You left Mystery outside.” The heater of the room chattered as it stuttered off, and the dark plain before Arthur was left with the reverberations of its silence, along with the strange emptiness of the room. The scarce glow of the few streetlamps outside tumbled around his shoulders as he stood in the doorway. He was startled only briefly by his own reflection in the mirror, directly across from the doorway. “Damnit,” he gasped, and clutched at his chest as his heart pounded behind his ribs.

“Lew?” Vivi chimed in, as she and Mystery pressed in behind Arthur. She shuffled to the tall lamp stationed in one corner of the room and flipped the light on, coating the walls and floor with its pale white coat. “Are you here?” She had the impression that he was hiding for some reason. Vivi brushed past Arthur and crossed to the bathroom at the furthest side of the room. Mystery followed, sniffing along the bed and the corner of the wall.

There was nothing in the bathroom. The light blazed harshly over the white walls and plastic floor, a few bottles of shampoo sat around but mention nothing of guests. Vivi was usually comforted by the fragrant soaps, but she had only noticed them now when she was uneasy. It didn’t feel right. The bathroom heater came on with the light, but the air retained a chilled quality. The whole of the room felt reticent, inhospitable.

Vivi shut the light off and stepped out. She felt unnerved and was not certain where this sensation had crept out from, but it was there and she couldn’t shake it. She heard the door shut as Arthur entered fully, he cast his eyes over the walls and the short carpet as if anticipating Lewis to pop out from a surface at any given moment. Arthur sprang in place when Mystery poked his head up from the opposite side of the bed. Vivi shared a look with the white face, then their sight feel onto the bed.

The scent of fresh laundry overpowered the room, and Vivi with Mystery examined the shirts, skirts, and pants laid out over the bed covers where they wouldn’t wrinkle. Further evidence of Lewis’ presence was not visible, aside from the large leather jacket draped over the back of an uncomfortable armchair. On the table rests the room’s twin key card, beside a pair of dark purple sunglasses. There was nothing to suggest anyone had been in the room recently.

#msa #mystery skulls animated #msa fanfic #mystery skulls fanfic #msa fanfiction #msa lewis #msa arthur #msa mystery #msa vivi #mystery skulls fanfiction #msa ghost #mystery skulls

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intervital · 4 years

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#100BrightMoments On April 7th, I'm going to start #The100DayProject where you do something creative daily for 100 days. Mine will revolve around bright moments where each creation must benefit at least one individual, and they can be my(future)self. Maybe a kind letter, a favorable review, portrait, etc. Something that can brighten someone's day. It doesn't necessarily have to be finished in a single day, but much progress must be done. Me and my future self can't be the recipient more than ten times.

Here are some ideas, and I'd like to do at least 30/42. For fun, each icon is based on the previous task. I really enjoyed doodline hehe:

💡 Fan mail

💌 Zine review

(Stapler) origami

(Book corner origami on a page) mail art [small scale artwork sent via post]

(Stamp) message of hope [mail a positive art work to be hung in the store windows of The Imaginarium of L. Delaney in New Orleans]

(Hung up sign of a butterfly) bookmark

🔖 Ode

(Scribbled lines then by Eileen) junk journal [handbound notebooks composed of junk ephemera like security envelopes, flyers, receipts, greeting cards, stationery, packaging, etc]

✂️ Care package

📦 Legacy The Sketchbook Project [original & tiny sized sketchbook projects for my future children]

(Lil & big ones) Art-o-mat® - Don't Go 'Round Artless! prototype [a hand-crafted small art object sold in converted cigarette machines across the nation. Maybe tiny junk journals?]

(Wooden block with a 💜) video for future ei [message for 5 years from now, when I'm 40, after giving birth, first time I fall in love]

📽️ Prayer

🕯️Time capsule [doesn't have to be buried, but should be sealed and has a written to open date]

(Shovel) @abandonedb2dbc on instagram (my guerilla art project where I abandon (loosely) connected books, lit mags, inspired written works & small gifts. Not sure how it'll work during Covid-19, but maybe I can catch up with the blog & story I didn't do for the last one.]

(Park bench has a ribbon wrapped book with gifts and a 🌼 beside it) The World Needs More Love Letters [a global project where each month you send letters to struggling recipients who could use some light]

(A stack of 📃✉️) book review

(Five ⭐s surrounding a 📗) meal

🍽️ The Wander Society

(⭕ with a ⚡ inside) printable [I'm not a graphic design whiz but maybe I can write up some quotes in ornate boxes? Idk lol]

(Sheet with different shapes) stickers

[My 2 in 1 sprocket printing out a sticker photo] flower arrangement

💐 Journal w/ me [video of me creating journal spread]

💻 Creative prompt

(Try with scribbled lines) underrated TV show review

📺 Sci-fi short film screenplay [an outline or a few pages]

(Potted Venus flytrap) guerilla art [artwork in public, so chalk quotes, zines outside, surprise bouquets, seed bombs. can't go outside unless absolutely necessary so maybe craft some stuff for when I can]

(🗑️ Next to a 📮 with a 🌟 sticker) cairn [artful stack of rocks, usually found in parks or hikes]

(Rocks on top of each other) #messagestoc [100 different messages in a 100 places, think I'm only on 4 lol. I'll just make one and save it for later]

(📖 With a postcard inserted) portrait [can be a photo]

📸 Book dedication [pick a book I wanna gift and write something sweet on the inside front cover]

(Dear --- I love you. Eileen) Rowan Hisayao Buchanan's # tinyisolations [she gives a weekly flash fiction/small art prompt. Randomly selected winners get sent money and also choose another person or charity that could use the help]

(☁️S surrounding a hot air balloon) Spotify playlist

🎵 @thedigitalsala (Twitter & Instagram handle) contribution [virtual Filipinx lit+ festival. Maybe I can read a piece, write a recap, organize a panel, transcribe]

🛋️ Guest blog [no clue where lol but maybe it'll manifest]

{Profile pic beneath ....... Eileen Ramos is a bipolar) video of a reading [preferably of my own work. But it would be fun to read a favorite poem or passage of an underrated author]

▶️ Handlettering [my handwriting is shitty but I think it'd be fun to try to do a quote. I could use the practice lol]

(📝 With a ✒️) Kleroteria [was chosen to write an email to be sent to 10k inboxes awhile ago. I have an idea but need more info & add other stuff. At most 3k characters, no pictures, links are ok, no ads]

📬 verse.press poetry playlist [website where you can create a themed list of poems]

(V icon) column [working on a pitch for a lit website; need to streamline & narrow it down]

(Greek column) FOUND Magazine entry [found magazine collects contributions of found notes. I have something to submit but idk where I placed them. Hopefully I'll come across it]

(Found mag logo) learningtoloveyoumore.com task [70 assignments by Miranda July & Harrell Fletcher which can be take a picture of your parents kissing, write the phone call you when you could have, recreate a poster you had as a teenager, photograph a significant outfit, write down a recent argument]

#100BrightMoments #the100dayproject #100dayproject #my oh mine #to do #doodles #handwriting #list

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blackswaneuroparedux · 6 years

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Roza Shanina was a Soviet sniper during World War II who was credited with fifty-nine confirmed kills, including twelve soldiers during the Battle of Vilnius. Shanina volunteered for the military after the death of her brother in 1941 and chose to be a marksman on the front line. Praised for her shooting accuracy, Shanina was capable of precisely hitting enemy personnel and making doublets (two target hits by two rounds fired in quick succession).

In 1944, a Canadian newspaper described Shanina as “the unseen terror of East Prussia”. She became the first Soviet female sniper to be awarded the Order of Glory and was the first servicewoman of the 3rd Belorussian Front to receive it. According to the report of Major Degtyarev (the commander of the 1138th Rifle Regiment) for the corresponding commendation list, between 6 and 11 April Shanina killed 13 enemy soldiers while subjected to artillery and machine gun fire. By May 1944, her sniper tally increased to 17 confirmed enemy kills, and Shanina was praised as a precise and brave soldier. The same year, on 9 June, Shanina’s portrait was featured on the front page of the Soviet newspaper Unichtozhim Vraga.

When Operation Bagration commenced in the Vitebsk region on 22 June 1944, it was decided that female snipers would be withdrawn. They voluntarily continued to support the advancing infantry anyway, and despite the Soviet policy of sparing snipers, Shanina asked to be sent to the front line. Although her request was refused, she went anyway. Shanina was later sanctioned for going to the front line without permission, but did not face a court-martial. She wanted to be attached to a battalion or a reconnaissance company, turning to the commander of the 5th Army, Nikolai Krylov. Shanina also wrote twice to Joseph Stalin with the same request.

Roza Shanina was born on 3 April 1924 in the Russian village of Yedma (Arkhangelsk Oblast) to Anna Alexeyevna Shanina, a kolkhoz milkmaid, and Georgiy Mikhailovich Shanin, a logger who had been disabled by a wound received during World War I.

In December 1941, a death notification was received for her 19-year-old brother Mikhail, who had died during the Siege of Leningrad. In response, Shanina went to the military commissariat to ask for permission to serve.

After Shanina’s several applications, the military commissariat finally allowed her to enroll in the Central Female Sniper Academy, where she met Aleksandra “Sasha” Yekimova and Kaleriya “Kalya” Petrova, who became her closest friends, with Shanina calling them “the vagrant three”.

In the face of the East Prussian Offensive, the Germans tried to strengthen the localities they controlled against great odds. In a diary entry dated 16 January 1945, Shanina wrote that despite her wish to be in a safer place, some unknown force was drawing her to the front line. In the same entry she wrote that she had no fear and that she had even agreed to go “to a melee combat”. The next day, Shanina wrote in a letter that she might be on the verge of being killed because her battalion had lost 72 out of 78 people. Her last diary entry reports that German fire had become so intense that the Soviet troops, including herself, had sheltered inside self-propelled guns.

On 27 January Shanina was severely injured while shielding a wounded artillery officer. She was found by two soldiers disemboweled, with her chest torn open by a shell fragment. Despite attempts to save her, Shanina died the following day near the Richau estate (later a Soviet settlement of Telmanovka. Shanina was buried under a spreading pear tree on the shore of the Alle River (now called the Lava) and was later reinterred in the settlement of Znamensk, Kaliningrad Oblast.

In 1964–65 a renewed interest in Shanina arose in the Soviet press, largely due to the publication of her diary. The newspaper Severny Komsomolets asked Shanina’s contemporaries to write what they knew about her. Streets in Arkhangelsk, Shangaly and Stroyevskoye were named after her, and the village of Yedma has a museum dedicated to Shanina. The local school where she studied in 1931–35 has a commemorative plate.

Shanina’s personal life was thwarted by war. On 10 October 1944, she wrote in her diary, “I can’t accept that Misha Panarin doesn’t live anymore. What a good guy! [He] has been killed … He loved me, I know, and I him … My heart is heavy, I’m twenty, but I have no close [male] friend”.

In November 1944, Shanina wrote that she “is flogging into her head that [she] loves” a man named Nikolai, although he “doesn’t shine in upbringing and education”. In the same entry she wrote that she did not think about marriage because “it’s not the time now”. She later wrote that she “had it out” with Nikolai and “wrote him a note in the sense of but I’m given to the one and will love no other one“. Ultimately in her last diary record, filled with sombre tones, Shanina wrote that she “cannot find a solace” now and is “of no use to anyone”.

After Shanina’s death, the diary, consisting of three thick notebooks, was kept by the war correspondent Pyotr Molchanov for twenty years in Kiev. An abridged version was published in the magazine Yunost in 1965.

#soviet #russia #women #sniper #history #shanina

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i-breathe-therefore-i-read · 5 years

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Beautiful Bastard Series by Christina Lauren

An ambitious intern. A perfectionist executive. And a whole lot of name calling. Whip-smart, hardworking, and on her way to an MBA, Chloe Mills has only one problem: her boss, Bennett Ryan. He's exacting, blunt, inconsiderate—and completely irresistible. A Beautiful Bastard. Bennett has returned to Chicago from France to take a vital role in his family's massive media business. He never expected that the assistant who'd been helping him from abroad was the gorgeous, innocently provocative—completely infuriating—creature he now has to see every day. Despite the rumors, he's never been one for a workplace hookup. But Chloe's so tempting he's willing to bend the rules—or outright smash them—if it means he can have her. All over the office. As their appetites for one another increase to a breaking point, Bennett and Chloe must decide exactly what they're willing to lose in order to win each other.

*What I thought: 4 out of 5 stars

read: 6/19

It’s so trashy and a bad representation of how a relationship works but I couldn’t stop reading it. I was addicted to it. lol

There was definitely some things Bennett did, I was not okay with. He’s the type of man I want to stay far away from. Chloe doesn’t put up with his BS so I guess that’s why they work. It’a such a weird relationship. I mean there was cute moments between them but mostly it was just mainly panty ripping sex. What’s up with that fetish anyway? Cute underwear is expensive and I would be pissed if someone kept doing that!

I liked how it ended. Their relationship was a lot better than how it started.

Just when Chloe’s career starts to take off, Bennett wishes it would all slow down long enough to spend a wild night alone with his girlfriend. But after he refuses to take no for an answer, Chloe and Bennett find themselves with two plane tickets, one French Villa, and a surprising conversation that, predictably, leaves them wrestling under the covers.

*What I thought: 3 out of 5 stars

read: 7/19

I thought this was just okay. Honestly I wished I didn't buy it or read it because I don't think it added more to the characters. I did like it showed a glimpse of Max.

Escaping a cheating ex, finance whiz Sara Dillon’s moved to New York City and is looking for excitement and passion without a lot of strings attached. So meeting the irresistible, sexy Brit at a dance club should have meant nothing more than a night’s fun. But the manner—and speed—with which he melts her inhibitions turns him from a one-time hookup and into her Beautiful Stranger. The whole city knows that Max Stella loves women, not that he’s ever found one he particularly wants to keep around. Despite pulling in plenty with his Wall Street bad boy charm, it’s not until Sara—and the wild photos she lets him take of her—that he starts wondering if there’s someone for him outside of the bedroom. Hooking up in places where anybody could catch them, the only thing scarier for Sara than getting caught in public is having Max get too close in private.

*What I thought: 4 out of 5 stars

read: 7/19

I didn’t think anybody could top an underwear fetish but boy was I wrong! Max and Sara were some exhibitionists! I liked Sara’s whole mentality of just having fun because her ex-fiancee was a douche canoe. I loved the moment when Sara realized that he wasn’t a stranger that’ll she’ll never see again. lol

I really liked Max. He was a perfect match for her kinkiness. lol I like that it was Max that was pursuing for more unlike most stories it’s the girl.

Overall I like the growth of both the characters and their relationship. The only thing that I didn't like was how come password protection was not put on devices?!? Private things wouldn’t have gotten out!! Gah the embarrassment! lol

When Max, Henry, and Will steal Bennett away for a weekend of shenanigans and strippers in Vegas, the first stop of the night doesn’t go at all as planned. With their scheme for a Guys Weekend completely derailed anyway, Max and Bennett begin to play a wild game of stealth and secrecy in order to have their bombshells all over Sin City.

*What I thought: 4.5 out of 5 stars

read: 7/19

I really liked reading their shenanigans in Vegas. Bennett and Max were hilarious with trying to sneak out to find their ladies to have some fun. ;)

A bombshell bookworm. A chronic Casanova. And a lesson in chemistry too scandalous for school. When Hanna Bergstrom receives a lecture from her overprotective brother about neglecting her social life and burying herself in grad school, she’s determined to tackle his implied assignment: get out, make friends, start dating. And who better to turn her into the sultry siren every man wants than her brother’s gorgeous best friend, Will Sumner, venture capitalist and unapologetic playboy? Will takes risks for a living, but he’s skeptical about this challenge of Hanna’s…until the wild night his innocently seductive pupil tempts him into bed- and teaches him a thing or two about being with a woman he can’t forget. Now that Hanna’s discovered the power of her own sex appeal, it’s up to Will to prove he’s the only man she’ll ever need.

*What I thought: 5 out of 5 stars

read: 7/19

So far this is my favorite one! I absolutely loved Hanna and Will. I loved Hanna’s blunt, no filter personality. There was so many things she just spouted out that had my eyes bugging out. I laughed so much at what came out of her mouth lol. I loved how much she tried to do things she normally wouldn’t have.

I couldn’t wait to read about Will because in the past books, he wasn’t really in it. Just little bits. So I was super excited to see how he works. I liked that he wasn’t a complete man whore like his buddies were. He’s a schedule man which I never heard of.

I really loved reading how their relationship blossomed from his best buddy’s kid sister until them getting all hot and heavy. I laughed when Hanna’s family became suspicious of their relationship by calling her by her name and not her nickname. lol

Overall, two thumbs up.

An exasperated bride who just wants to elope. A determined groom whose only focus is getting to the wedding night. And—of course—a whole lot of name calling.

*What I thought: 4 out of 5 stars

read: 7/19

I liked it though Bennett and Chloe are my least favorite of the couples so far. They’re just too intense and angry for my romantic heart lol. I like the shenanigans with Chloe’s aunts lol. I’m so glad I don’t have any ladies like that in my family lol. I laughed so much with what Bennett told them to do. Now after reading this....I really need a story with just George. He’s probably my favorite minor character in any book. He’s so hilarious and I want him to have something too! Whenever he’s in the scene, I wished there was more of him. Give my George!

When Ruby Miller’s boss announces he’s sending her on an extended business trip to New York City, she’s shocked. As one of the best and brightest young engineers in London, she knows she’s professionally up to the task. The part that’s throwing her is where she’ll be spending a month up close and personal working alongside—and staying in a hotel with—Niall Stella, her firm’s top urban planning executive and The Hottest Man Alive. Despite her ongoing crush, Ruby is certain Niall barely knows she’s alive…until their flirty overnight flight makes him sit up and take notice. Not one for letting loose and breaking rules, recently divorced Niall would describe himself as hopeless when it comes to women. But even he knows outgoing California-girl Ruby is a breath of fresh air. Once she makes it her mission to help the sexy Brit loosen his tie, there’s no turning back. Thousands of miles from London, it’s easy for the lovers to play pretend. But when the trip is over, will the relationship they’ve built up fall down?

*What I thought: 3.5 out of 5 stars

read: 7/19

I really liked that Niall was the least experienced out of all the boys in the series. Kinda refreshing when the main guy in the story isn’t a playboy. Every time I read stories of men getting around, all I think of is that they're walking std’s. lol

While I liked Ruby, I also got weirded out on how obsessive she was towards Niall. It got awkward at times. I like how she’s understanding with how Niall is because his ex-wife messed with his head but then at times, she’s pushing for more than he is ready for. Like girl we know you’ve married him in your mind since meeting him and writing his name in your notebook but give the man some time to come to terms with a failed relationship he had for half of his life!

Completely off topic but why do most romance stories the couples never wear condoms? Like most of these couples in this series seem like they never heard of them or they mention I’ve never done this before with others but want to with their partner. I guess that’s how we know ‘it’s true luv 4ever’ 🙄

One Player tamed. One nerd girl satisfied. And one more major life decision to make. When Will fell for Hanna, her quirky sense of humor and fierce dedication to her career were part of the attraction. (Not to mention her coy newbie attitude toward sex and her willingness to let him teach her everything.) But when the job offers start rolling in for her—and oh, they do—Hanna has trouble deciding what she wants, where they should live, and how much she should burden Will with the decision. Magic between the sheets is only one part of a relationship...getting on the same page is quite another altogether.

*What I thought: 2 out of 5 stars

read: 7/19

I was a little disappointed with this because I love Will and Hanna. I really liked the beginning with them getting married but quickly got bored with reading about Hanna being indecisive with where she wants to work at. I ended up skimming the book.

Oh wait, there was a one scene where the group all drinks together and there was this one part with George getting a kiss he’ll remember forever, that was the best. lol

#beautiful bastard series #beautiful bastard #beautiful bitch #beautiful stranger #beautiful bombshell #beautiful player #beautiful beginning #beautiful secret #beautiful boss #my bookish thoughts

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